A Drunken Case
by winniereed
Summary: John walks into a pub to find Sherlock unmistakably drunk. He then finds out Sherlock somehow manage to solve a case in that state as well. Fluff.


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything by Sherlock whatsoever. Enjoy!**

Drunk Sherlock

"Sherlock?" John asked in surprise. "Fancy finding you here, mate."

John had walked into a nearby pub for a drink when over by a table was Sherlock. But, John now noticed, Sherlock was a little—

"Are you drunk?" John asked.

"Mmmm?" Sherlock muttered and glanced at John. His eyes were glazed over but he was staring at John intensely…somehow.

And then, a curious thing started to happen to Sherlock. He absently pushed away the bottle that was in front of him, grinned in thought, and began to silently giggle. Not a real giggle, but a quiet titter of sound. John glanced at him for a moment before grinning in contagious amusement. But Sherlock's giggle, however, was steadily getting louder.

Unexpectantly, a loud laugh escaped Sherlock's control and the people next to them at the other table glanced over in bewilderment. Self-conscious, he bit his knuckle to smother his laughter but it just made it worse for Sherlock. John noticed. He stopped grinning and frowned at Sherlock's behavior.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked.

That was all Sherlock needed to break his thin control. Uncaring that anyone was watching, Sherlock laughed outright and buried his head in hands. John stared at Sherlock in disbelief.

"What are you laughing at?" he demanded again.

That only made him laugh harder. Sherlock shook his head grinning and leaned in close to John to tell him but laughter overcame his speech and he had to bury his face in his hands again, his shoulders shaking.

John waited for Sherlock to stop laughing. Finally, Sherlock managed to compose himself long enough to lean in close to John and say, "I stole Molly's …" He broke off snickering.

"You stole Molly's what, Sherlock?" John asked in confusion.

Sherlock fingered his pocket and fished out a car key. John stared at it blankly.

"You stole her…car keys?" he asked while Sherlock nod his head rapidly. "She doesn't have a car."

"Yehesssss," Sherlock slurred, somehow no longer laughing. "sssshee does."

"No, she doesn't," John said and then realized what he was saying. "No, she doesn't. Sherlock!" He grabbed the keys from Sherlock's hand. "Sherlock, look at me." He held up the keys right up in front of Sherlock's face. "Whose keys are these?"

"Molly's" Sherlock giggled.

"No, Sherlock," John said, slightly panicked. "Where did you get these?"

"Hmmm," Sherlock snickered and pointed toward the bartender. "He stole them from her."

"Wha- Sherlock, you stole them," John corrected him. Sherlock however was urgently shaking his head.

"No, no,no,nnnnnnno," Sherlock said, slurring a bit. He blinked hard to clear his head and continued. " _He_ took them, you can tell by his-"Sherlock broke off and giggled madly. John waited impatiently for Sherlock to compose himself again before he continued. "His hand. His hand is grubby from holding the keys, but these keys," he snickered. "'these keys,'"

"Sherlock," John said.

"They're clean!" Sherlock exclaimed and held them up dangerously close to John's face. "See? Why are they so shiny?" Sherlock whispered loudly.

"Cause he wiped them clean?" John asked in confusion. Sherlock nodded dramatically.

"Eeee-xactly!" He grinned and reached for the bottle in front of him. "Why would old keys be cccleeeaan," he slurred. "unlessssss sssomebody ccleeaaned them?"

"That-that doesn't mean he stole the keys, Sherlock," John said as he glanced toward the bartender.

"The keyssss are to a car," Sherlock muttered, his head tipping slowly forward.

"…Yes, well done, Sherlock," John said in a sarcastic undertone.

"a _foreign_ car!" Sherlock added, jerking his head up. "Someone has applied pressure on the right side because the starter is on the right. But." He managed to pop the word. "Only foreign cars have the starter on the right."

"So you stole keys from somebody…who already stole keys from somebody?" John asked in confusion.

"Not _somebody_ , _"_ Sherlock insisted. "Molly!" He hiccupped and began to giggle again.

John grabbed Sherlock's wrists and tried to make Sherlock look him in the face. "Sherlock, Molly doesn't own a car, let alone a foreign car. Now, how can these possibly be Molly's keys?"

"Because you are missssstaken," he said flatly.

"What?" John asked.

Unsteadily, Sherlock pointed over to a girl by the counter. " _That_ Molly."

John looked over to where Sherlock was pointing and noticed a young blond standing over by the counter waiting to be served. "That's Molly?"

"Molly _Harper_ ," Sherlock confirmed. "Ssssheeee's…new."

"Oh," was all John was able to say.

"She left her keys on the counter and she walked away for a moment," Sherlock hiccupped again. "And, when she didn't come back, the bartender took them for safe-keeping. So, _I_ took them because they weren't his to keep." Sherlock grinned at himself momentarily before he fast began to drift off again. John noticed and quickly shook Sherlock awake.

"Sherlock, can I see the keys again?" he asked in a gentle voice.

Sherlock didn't raise his head but held his hand up with the keys. John took them and walked over to the girl.

"Excuse me," John began.

"Yes?" the girl asked expectantly.

"I think you might have dropped these," John said and held up the keys to her. "Are these yours?"

"Wh-yeah!" the girl said in surprise. "Thanks I-"she laughed to herself. "I didn't realize I lost them. Thanks."

"No problem," John smiled and walked back toward Sherlock. Sherlock's head was sideways on the table and he rolled his eyes toward John as he approached.

"Did you take care of the thief?" he asked in a low voice.

"Not quite," John said with a slight smirk. He reached down and helped Sherlock to his feet. Groaning, Sherlock teetered and John quickly steadied him. "Easy there, mate,"

"Where are we going now, John?" Sherlock asked as John practically forced Sherlock through the door.

"To another case," John lied.

"Yes," Sherlock said in a tired voice that still held excitement. "The game is on!"

"After tomorrow," John muttered.

"What's that?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing," John assured him, a smile playing on his lips.


End file.
